I feel I need to preface this dream with some sort of disclaimer. Partly as a disclaimer, and partly so that the first line or so that shows up in the Facebook preview does not embarrass me. You have to come here to embarrass me.

So, last night I dreamt I was having an affair with… wait for it… Donald Trump. IT WAS NOT A SEX DREAM!! He landed his huge big helicopter in my town, and invited me in, but said he was too busy campaigning to socialise, so I could just take a nap inside his helicopter.

So it was actually a lovely dream, because I got to nap on this giant bed, with nobody disturbing me. I was planning to break up with him when he finished campaigning and did have time to socialise, but for now, the naps were goooood. And his helicopter was called the T-rump.

I was having a very complicated dream about a table tennis competition where the competitors had to wear sheep suits, and me riding a train naked (because they’d run out of sheep suits) and wrapping myself in toilet paper…

So it was the wedding for which this was the engagement. Turns out neither the bride nor the groom like wedding cake, so they came up with this alternative. Instead of, you know, chocolate cake, vanilla cake, strawberry cake, carrot cake, red velvet cake (which I KNOW they like), cheese cake, cupcakes, macaroons, cake pops … we had to play Spin the Bottle with Captain Morgan.